


Black Blood

by Seafoam_Eyes



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, BAMF Will, Blood, Gore, Hallucinations, Hannibal is protective, M/M, Memories, Obsessive Hannibal, Pain, Pinning Will, Will Graham's Dogs - Freeform, i will add tags as i progress, in a way i guess, self discovery, sooooooo much angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seafoam_Eyes/pseuds/Seafoam_Eyes
Summary: After the fall, Will wakes up in an unusual place which doesn't seem to be able to let him go with a beast out to kill him. What's worse, he doesn't remember anything. (This was made when I had a writing prompt in english class which got continued and so this happened.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The characters don't belong to me and I will make no profit from this.

In the moonlight, most things look black. In the moonlight anything can become something dangerous. It is when you get the feeling of ‘that’s not right’ which sends chills down your spine. When a snapped twig can cast a shadow so grand, you’d think of a ravenous hellhound that follows it’s prey everywhere it goes is behind you. When the ominous flutter of wings above you tells you that you are never alone, whether you want it or not. A bark in the distance of a beast in it’s uneasy slumber can make you jump, can make you shudder. I may be no expert, but it is at that moment that I realised how beautiful blood can look on the snow.

I stand there shivering in the fresh snow, wondering and trying to remember...well anything. What happened? Why am I here in this state of disgust. Who am I? I just don’t seem to know, there’s nothing in my head. I look around and take in my surroundings, slowly trying to ground myself towards the real world.

I see the moon smile at me, knowing something that I don't. The trees stand all around me, looming and threatening, but in away as if they’re trying to shield and isolate me from the dangers out there. There is a house to my right, an old one by the looks of it, looking expectantly at me, calling me in. And I...I do not know what to do. I feel quite under dressed right now, because the snow has already made my foot numb from the cold. One, singular foot. The other one has a shoe on and even so I can still barely feel it. I look around, trying to find another option. I wander around the little patch clearing in this ominous forest and after a while decide to enter the house, escaping the cold being a good idea.

As I start to walk to the house, I hear footsteps of some sort behind me. Clunk, clunk, clunk, huff, the...something? Someone? The living being, let’s say that, was breathing heavily and was at a fair distance from me. Clunk, huff, Clunk, Huff, CLUNK, HUFF! I can hear the whatever speed up and start to breath and stomp onto the snow very heavily. Not knowing what to do, I start to run for the door of the hunting cabin. it doesn't take me that long with the adrenalin surging through my veins, with me reaching the door in matter of two minuets. I stumble as I get closer to it by I ignore it, reaching for the door once inside and close it, clicking the lock shut. As I catch my breath, I hear something jam against the door, trying to break it, but the door seems to be strong enough to hold the offender off. I start to catch my breath, but with my adrenalin wearing off a sharp pain erupts in my foot.

I let out a cry out in surprise and kneel down in pain, giving in to the temptation of sitting down. As I look at my leg to see what the problem is, I realise through the pain that I am exhausted. Not even in the good way. My body sags against the nearest wall, trying to find support and I’m ready to fall asleep right there, even if it means I'd die. I slowly slide down to the floor wit my eyes closing, but my foot shoots another wave of pain as if to remind me that there is something outside that wants to get to me. After several moments of an internal dilemma, I muster enough strength to at least sit up properly and I look down to inspect the subject of annoyance.

Sticking out of my foot there seems to be big nail going right through the soft sole of it, making it look like a bad horror movie prop. Luckily for me, the pain would’ve been much worse if my foot hadn’t became numb before hand, so I thanked whatever deity out there that helped this coincidence happen. I find enough strength to stand up, leaning heavily against the wall, and go searching for materials that would ease my problematic wound. I limp down the hallway of the house and it seems to be endless, carrying on for meters on end. When I finally enter the room I presume to be the living room, I start to look around, hoping to see something that would help me with my problem.

The room has soft creamy wallpaper and nice flooring, with soft yellow curtains hanging over the giant glass doors leading into the back yard. The room has a nice, relaxing attitude around it, with the light in it being dull, but in a nice way. I look over to the glass doors again and a surge of panic enters my hazy ind. I should probably close that in case the...the...the BEAST. Yeah, the Beast decides to enter round the back. As I limp over to lock it, I decide that the beast is an appropriate name for whatever tried to maul me, because it wasn't human as far as I could see...not at all. I lock every lock on there, shut the curtains briskly and drag the nearest coffee table to maybe stop the Beast from getting in. Eh, that’s lame, but hopefully it’ll do something, if anything at all.

I turn around and take in the rest of the room. If I’d look from the glass doors and into the hallway, then I’d see the rest of the circular room. It has several lamps with the cottony light, a very comfortably looking sofa near a fireplace, which can only fit two, three people on it.It seems to have a nice, inviting texture, looking comfortable yet regal at the sae time. You could even imagine a couple of pretentious bastards sitting there, sipping wine and reading some old classic book which no-one's heard of. On my right I can see a bar with a wine bottle next to two wine glasses. One of the glasses is shattered. Huh, strange.

I sit down onto the sofa as I get hit with another wave of intense exhaustion, placing my head between my palms to try and make it feel better. My head starts to increase the pain it's sending out as I started to have images and sounds flash through my mind. A gunshot. A roar. A small drop of wine staining the floor. A moonlit terrace, covered in something that it shouldn’t be in. A tangy feel on my tongue and a sting on my cheek. Firm hands holding me. The rush of wind as we’re falling, we’re falling-

I open my eyes. I seem to have blacked out for a second. I shake my head and stand up to resume my search around the room. I go to the bar which I had previously noticed and start to open every door there is in the island. There’s barely anything but spices stocked in there, so I don’t have much choice. After looking around through some cupboards, I decide to rip off a long cloth from the curtain covering the glass doors and use a bottle of alcohol rubbing i had found in the island. Really strange. Behind the sofa stands a laundry basket with some towels, so I take those too. I set off to work.

I slowly start to remove the nail from my foot, with one the fluffy towel around my foot acting as a smallish shield to stop the blood from staining the floor. The pristinely white towel is soon covered in the deep rich colour that my blood gives off, giving it a startling yet beautiful contrast. Taking out the nail is nearly torture. It seems to be bigger and more rusted than i expected, because it keeps scratching my sore tissue as I remove it. I want to how in pain, but I keep it together, thinking about the moment this will be over.Once I removed the offending object, I wrapped it in another towel and flung it further away from me, as if to distance myself from the thing that caused me pain. I turn back to the towel that was stopping the blood flow and realise that I should replace it with another one before I ruin it forever. Never mind, too late.

I grab the alcohol and pour the liquid all over the wound, trying to clean it. Why did I think this is a good idea? That pain is practically unbearable, with the burn from the alcohol spreading all the way up to my calf. Uncontrollably a tear slips out and rolls down my cheek without me knowing so. Somehow, after a while, the burn subsides to a bearable level and after a while, I can wipe off the excess blood off I wrap the wound without causing too much pain. The "bandage" is actually the leftover towel and piece of curtain that I took before, which isn't the best idea but it'll do. After making sure my wound won’t leak and the doors are secure, I go back to the living room and collapse onto the sofa that stood there. Taki g a liking to the sofa and it's royal looks, I place my foot in a way so that the minimal amount of blood would come out if it were to leak.

I lay down and look over the day so far. I was stuck stuck in the cold underdressed for who knows how long, nearly mauled by a beast for a reason again unknown and then having to have an impromptu operation on my foot. I think that that I most definitely deserve some sleep after all of that.


	2. A Lonely Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will starts to explore the house and meets someone unexpected...

I sleep an unrestful slumber and dream uneasy dreams. I dream of cold water that suffocates me, of salt that burns away my eyes. I dream of red splashes that paint out a picture showing a pair of wings, finally realising the defeat. I dream of three figures, two of them caught up in a web of lies as the third one pulls them towards themselves. I dream of a red dragon, so mighty and tall, brought down by a small and bony boy, who was ready to fight to the death of his short and miserable life life. I feel soft flakes fall on to my eyelids, melting on them as I sink into someone’s loving and understanding touch. I dreamed of brown eyes, looking so lovingly at me, of the stars, the beach, of the moonlight hitting a small lonely tree. I dream of a soothing voice, beckoning me to…

I wake up.

I look around and realise that I’m still stuck in the small hunting cabin with the beast prowling somewhere out there. And what was the dream about? Was it a dream? All I can remember from it are two piercing eyes looking at me in pride and adoration, as well as a sky full of stars. Is it something from what happened before this demented nightmare? Should I seek out my past or should I start over? Why is this all happening, to me of all people? How do I find the answers that belong to the questions left unasked? I do not know, not at all. Why can't I remember anything? Is this a curse, because it sure seems so. So far, I've had a hellish experience and would like to get out of this darn house, somewhere with a proper hospital along with food and blankets.

I lay on the soft sofa, pondering all of these winding questions, these mysteries, these pleasantries. I sit up after a while and think about my plan of action, as I look around the room, taking in the items I left laying about in last night's stupor. Further away lays the blood blanket, stuck in the awkward position it was in once the blood dried, the nail being inside it. I stretch my back, getting the kinks and knots that formed after sleeping on the lumpy surface of the sofa, yawning all the way through the action. My poor stomach groans in protest as I relax after the stretch and I realise how hungry I must be after my exhaustion induced slumber. How many hours did I manage to sleep for? Food may be an excellent thing for me, but my foot creaks in protest as I move around, so I decide to check it out before stuffing myself with whatever is left in this house.

I sigh, scrunch up my face and reach towards my foot to check up on my wound. The material that's wrapped around my sole seems to have caked heavily with my dried blood and something that suspiciously looks like puss. Knowing that tearing it away without softening the material first would be harmful and very painful, I stand up ready to find the bathroom to help me. I hop to the hallway and look for a door that might suggest that it contains a sink of some sort. The hallway isn’t as long and looming as I first must’ve thought it was, but then again, I was barely conscious last night.

The hallway, like the living room, is surprisingly inviting and warm, with light, wooden planks being the flooring and creamy and peeling wallpaper on the walls. As I look closer and pay attention to my surroundings, I can notice the copious amounts dust: the small statuettes on the cupboard had it in several layers, so did the red carpet the feels worn out yet soft, the old pictures with the family’s faces scribbled out and torn. Even the clocks that were thrown around and hanging in hazardous messes have with dust all over them. The dust that was coating every square inch of the place gave the scene a bittersweet twinge, while the broken furniture, clocks and ripped pictures gave the scene in question a chaotic and uneasy feel. Down the hall stand five identical doors, that is if you include the front door, with two doors on both the left and right sides of the passage way. None of the doors indicate that it could be the bathroom, or even if it contained the sink for the matter, so I don't exactly know where to go. Because all of the doors are closed, I decide to test my luck and open the one one my left.

The bare room contained dogs. A lot of dogs. Seven or eight if I can count coherently. I can’t seem to enter the room properly, as if something is blocking me, so I just stand at the entrance of the room and watch them. There are many different dogs, with a portion of them being quite small while others are huge. Some of them are laying near the sofa, while some others are nagging them to go and play with them. I get a nagging feeling in my chest as I watch them interact, the way they seem to act as a family. Anyone could see that they care for each other, and that's the thing that's bothering me. I start to wonder whether I have a family, if there is someone out there that cares for me, but I catch myself and focus on looking around the room.

The room itself is quite small, containing several carpets on the floor and a fireplace, along with a table and a bookshelf on the other end. The objects and furniture are average sized, but seem to become giants when placed in this room, with the tattered couch in the middle taking up most of the space. I look over to the table, in hope of getting some information from whatever could lie there. I can’t seem to see what exactly lies on the table but from what I can make out I think it’s...fishing material? I can most definitely see a hook and some brightly coloured feathers, and there seems to be a long rod lying on the table so I’m pretty certain that’s what it is. How do I even know this? Who knows, definitely not me. I look over the fishing material one more time, lost in thought. Strange, I think, there aren’t any rivers nearby as far as I know, so why would you need fishing equipment here? As I ponder the thought I turn back to the dogs and notice that something’s not right. 

Their demeanor has changed greatly since the last time I looked at them, the room being more tense now. The dogs took a protective stance, with the smaller and weaker ones being in the middle of the pack, while the the larger and fiercer dogs growling and taking offensive positions. All of them are looking at the window, with equal amounts of fright in their positions. Again, another way they act like a family I note down as I try to tear my eyes away from the terrified creatures.

I look to the window and see a beast.

The Beast to be more exact. The head was nearly as big as the window itself and the snout was breathing fog into the room, scaring the dogs. It seems to be searching for something, something in particular. The head of the beast is luckily the only thing that's fitting through the window, but it's scary nonetheless, with it's big nostrils flaring angrily as they sniff around and it's eyes looking around wildly. Suddenly, I realise that it’s looking for me...OH FU- I try to scuttle away and temporarily forget about my hurt foot. I step, putting my whole weight on it and- MOTHERFUC- SHIT!!! I howl in pain as I fall on the ground and let out whimper, which straight away attracts the attention of the Beast. 

Oh god, it’s looking at me, IT’S LOOKING AT ME! SHI- I try to get up and run away again but my hurt foot is making me kneel down aimlessly and thrash around in pain. As I continue to struggle, the Beast continues to squeeze it’s head through the little space the window gives it. I finally get a proper look at it and… isn’t it tragically beautiful. The Beast’s main body looks a lot like one of somewhat of a deer yet the snout, eyes, frontal forehead...the whole face!

The Beast has a pale tuft of fur going in a line down it’s head in a streamline arrow, but that is the only light part anywhere on it's fur. The rest of the visible body is covered in midnight dark fur and feathers, some parts of the neck with molten scales. The horrid mouth has protruding fangs sticking out when it bares it's teeth at me, with most of them being stained red with whatever it ate last. The beast seemed to be snarling at me, dragging it’s massive antlers in my direction, trying to somehow challenge me to a fight I know I will never win. And it’s eyes, there is so many of them! The pale milky white eyes are seemingly staring at me in a intense hunger, wanting to devour me right there on the spot. 

The antlers are most definitely the worst part. The black gnarly things are coming from the Beast’s skull looking like two damned trees, giving the creature a demonic look to it. The tips are so sharp I can see the ceiling already start to crack little by little where the Beast has them scratching it, covering the dogs and the Beast in plaster dust.

I kneel, making sure that I won’t touch my injured limb, and slowly start shut the heavy door just in time, as I see the wall around the window start to crack from the pressure and weight of the Beast. It snorts loudly and sends another foggy breath into the room, struggling even harder to get to me. Soon enough the heavy door slams shut properly, cutting off the beast along with the horrible noise it was making. The roar is silenced and I hear nothing. 

Nothing at all.

I lay there, sprawled on the floor for several minutes, trying to catch my breath. How did the Beast knowhow to get through the window. And what was it that t had around its snout and mouth...was it blood? WAS IT MY BLOOD?! Oh god, I feel sick as I realise the Beast probably licked of whatever was left over when I stood on the nail running away from it. Uuugh- I’m going to throw up. I scramble to the door behind me, praying that it’s the bathroom, or at least somewhere with a sink.

 

Luckily for me, it was.

As I felt the bile rise in my throat, I ran into the toilet and I retched away whatever was left over in my stomach. The bile burned my nose, and once I had finished, I flushed the disgusting slop away, trying to forget it had ever happened (which obviously didn’t work). As I wipe the spit from my mouth, I sit on the bathroom tiles and try to remember anything, ANYTHING at all. The fact that I can't remember a single piece of information from before this nightmare really doesn't help my situation. And so I continue trying to remember. Anything before the Beast, before the nail in my foot, before I got stuck in this godforsaken house. I look up to the foggy light that illuminates me and close my eyes, slowly drifting off again from the exhaustion.

 

Sweat and fear penetrate my nose, shaken breaths, cold nights and shaggy dogs. I get flashes of barks, flashes of growls, hoof stomps and a breath that appears to be below my hand, bothering me. My feet feel sore and I get a stabbing pain in my stomach, a scar with its seams ready to open. I open my eyes, breathing softly and peacefully, for once. I decide to do what I came here to do, to check my wound. I fill the sink with water and sit on the toilet, ready to unwrap and wash the piece of cloth. As I take it off, I am slightly disgusted. 

My wound has indeed dried, but it seems to be infected, with yellow pus escaping the clotted parts of the wound lining.The scabs that formed overnight still seem too be pretty fresh and weak, I can actually look inside my foot if I tried hard enough because the nail went through, even if not that cleanly. It didn’t damage and bones nor any main muscles by the look of it, so I am indeed luckier than I could’ve imagined. I take the stained cloth and start to wash it in the sink. The action is repetitive and calming, which lets my mind wander. First the bathroom then the lucky misses, a lot of coincidences are happening. It's strange and makes my mind hurt and heart race in a surreal way, so I decide to stop and focus on my wound again. Wrapping the wound in a new and freshly cleaned clothe, I realise how much hungrier I am than before, so I am ready to go to the bar to scrap up some food. As I exit the bathroom, a picture that I’ve seen before multiple times enters my mind, and somehow remains there. 

It’s a small, lonely tree in the silvery moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, exams coming up and everything. I'll try to update more often, I promise! Happy Holidays Y'all!

**Author's Note:**

> Here ya go my lovelies! It's my first fic so like I apologise for the horrid grammar and story line. Also I'm not a native speaker so ye... Hope you like it!


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